


In the mourning I'll let you die

by dragonwings948



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Angst, Audio 091: Circular Time, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love, Minisode: The Night of the Doctor, Referenced Time War (Doctor Who), Regeneration, Regeneration (Doctor Who), Regeneration Angst (Doctor Who), Reunions, Telepathy, Time War (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwings948/pseuds/dragonwings948
Summary: Long after Charley has left the Doctor, she hears his voice in her dreams; only, it's not a dream at all.
Relationships: Eighth Doctor & Charley Pollard, Eighth Doctor/Charley Pollard
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	In the mourning I'll let you die

**Author's Note:**

> (Yes, the "typo" in the title is on purpose, don't @ me) If you want an explanation for how this fic could actually kinda be canon and where I got the idea for it, read on! If not, you can skip to the fic. I won't blame you. XD
> 
> So this fic was heavily inspired by the last story in Circular Time, in which (spoiler alert) Nyssa kinda ends up in the Fifth Doctor's mind and basically helps him to regenerate. It introduces the concept that the Doctor actually uses the mental energies of his past companions to regenerate and even telepathically communicates with them when it happens?? So it occurred to me, what if Eight saying his companions' names in TNotD was him telepathically reaching out to each one of them, and then of course I immediately thought of what that would mean for Charley, and here we are! 
> 
> Title comes from the Paramore song "In the Mourning;" I just discovered that the song exists while writing this fic and...ouch...
> 
> P.S. I haven't listened to any Charley stories post-TGWNW yet, so the setting is kind of ambiguous, but I do know she ends up on 21st century Earth so that's when I imagined this taking place.

_“Charley.”_

The voice was like a whisper uttered far away. It carried only the smallest remnant of that voice which Charley had longed to hear for so many years, and yet she knew without a doubt it was him. Because though it seemed like an eternity since she’d last heard that sound, those smooth tones always infused with energy and excitement as every word was pronounced with precision, they filled her dreams more often than she cared to admit. And it wasn’t only the voice that came, but a face. A person. She could remember him down to the very last detail, from his bright blue eyes to his bouncy curls to the way he’d smiled at her.

It was always a relief to see him in her dreams because when Charley was awake, there were times when fear stabbed her gut as she couldn’t quite remember the way he’d said her name. Sometimes, all she could recall were the adventures she’d experienced with the rainbow-coloured Doctor, while her older memories with _her_ Doctor got fuzzier and fuzzier.

The other day she’d passed two men on the street talking about faith and her thoughts had turned to C’rizz. _C’rizz._ How long had it been since she’d thought of him? Even the memories of him, too, were dimming.

Charley didn’t want to face the reality that she was getting older, that she’d experienced so much that she just couldn’t retain it all. And maybe, just maybe…those older memories werefading away because they were too painful for her to think of.

But when she was asleep, that was when she could pretend. It always hurt when she woke up and the dreams faded away, but it was worth it. To see him again, even in her imagination, it was worth anything. For as long as she dreamed, she was by the Doctor’s side.

For as long as she dreamed, he was still alive.

_“Charley.”_

His voice sounded clearer this time and Charley tried to call out to him, only to find, as she did often in her dreams, that she had no voice. She reached out wordlessly towards the sound of his voice, crying out his name in silent sobs.

_“Charley!”_

The dream began to fade like paint running down a canvas, like water falling through her fingers. Somewhere in the midst of it, Charley became aware of it all; aware of the dream, aware of the Doctor, and she tried to hold onto unconsciousness. _Just one more minute. Just one more minute of his voice…_

_“Charley.”_

Charley Pollard awoke with a gasp, her heartbeat drumming so loudly in her ears that it nearly drowned out the rain pattering against her window. The Doctor’s voice had sounded so close, so _real,_ that she’d nearly expected to see him standing by her bedside. But her room was empty; of course it was.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Even that one moment of disappointed hope crushed her spirit. Tears stung her eyes. She growled at herself, frustrated at her own stupidity. It had been so long ago; she shouldn’t still be upset over him.

And yet, she’d told herself that same thing time and time again. Deep down, she knew that the hurt would never go away. The Doctor was, quite literally, a part of her. When he’d died, some of her had died with him.

_“Charley! Can you hear me?”_

Charley jumped. She sat up and pulled her blanket around her. She listened to the stillness and the rain, knowing she’d heard _something._ She dared to whisper, “Doctor?”

_“Charley, there you are. I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to reach you in time.”_

His voice was unmistakable. Suddenly it was like she could feel his cool hand in hers, the soft caress of velvet and curls. She threw off her blanket and jumped to her feet, looking around the room. “Doctor? Where are you?”

A flash of lightning illuminated the room for just a moment, but it was clear that no one was there.

_"Shh, Charley, it's all right. I'm not really there. I’m in your head; I’ve opened up a telepathic connection.”_

“In my...." She'd been so overwhelmed that she hadn't realised the Doctor's voice, so clear and close, was in her mind. Regardless, she looked around the room, straining to see some trace of him there. “But how?” The reality of it hit her like a wave: she was talking to the Doctor again, _her_ Doctor. She fell back on the bed with a huff. Heedless of thought, the questions started pouring out. “How are you alive? There was that Cyber worm thing, and then you were dead, and then—” A sudden spurt of anger flared up in her. “If you’ve been alive all this time, why didn’t you come back for me?”

There was a long pause. Charley was starting to wonder if she’d imagined him in the first place when the Doctor spoke again, confused and with a touch of pain in his voice. _“Alive?”_ he asked. _“Of course I'm alive, but I won’t be for very long unless you help me. I wish I could answer your questions, but there’s no time.”_

Typical Doctor, avoiding what really mattered. But the weariness evident in his tone made her wonder what was happening to him. She wanted to at least ask where he was, because no matter what, even if it took her a thousand years, she'd get there somehow.

But if he was in trouble and he needed her help, she knew she had to focus.

"What do you need me to do, Doctor?"

There was a smile in his voice that Charley could picture so perfectly as he replied, _“There's the Charley I’ve missed. I just need you to do one thing for me. It may be hard for you. I don’t know where you are in your timeline; you may have already lived your whole life after you left me, Charley, but I need you to think back."_ His voice became soft and gentle, almost hypnotising as he went on. _“Think of me. Think of the R101, of Cybermen and Daleks, of time lords and Zagreus and people who never were, of Nimon and vengeful immortals, of another universe and C’rizz. He says hello, by the way.”_

Charley’s breath caught. “C’rizz?” She could barely say his name as she tried to speak past the lump lodged in her throat.

_“Sorry, I shouldn't have said that; I’ve thrown you off track. Don't worry about that. Think of our adventures with him—Rassilon, the Kro’ka, Davros… Think of me, Charley.”_

Doing her best to listen rather than question, she closed her eyes. Her adventures with her Doctor were all wrapped up in a neat little corner of her mind, never to be touched unless absolutely necessary.

With a deep breath, she opened up the floodgates.

It had been so long since she’d let herself remember everything so completely. It all seemed to rush by in fast-forward, from meeting the Doctor on the R101 to the final fateful adventure with the Cybermen. But even more than the things the Doctor had named, Charley remembered the love. The trust. Holding his hand. Laughing with C’rizz. Falling asleep in the TARDIS listening to the Doctor tell stories.

She didn't even realise until a sob forced itself from her throat that she was crying. They had been the best days of her life and they had ended so abruptly, too abruptly. She remembered these same tears coursing down her cheeks as she had seen the Doctor’s still body, unable to believe that that vibrant life had been snuffed out forever...

_“That's it, Charley! Keep going!"_

“Doctor," she sobbed. She would have given anything to have him there, to understand what was happening, to look into his eyes and know for certain that everything was going to be all right.

When the Doctor spoke again, his voice sounded ragged and strained, though still as gentle as could be. _“You've done it, Charley. That's all the time I have, I’m afraid."_ He sighed, a sound full of pain and release. _“Thank you.”_

“Wait!" She stood again as if she could chase after him. “I have so many questions, so many things to say! You can't just leave!”

_“I must, Charley, I'm sorry. I wish we had more time, but there's no time left for me at all."_

"Doctor!" She was desperate now, sobbing and sniffling as she delved deep into her mind and willed the connection to remain open somehow. "Please!"

 _“Goodbye, Charley."_ His voice was now so faint that the rain nearly overpowered it.

“No! No, you can’t!” She could clearly feel the presence of his mind slipping away like the tears falling from her face, but she wouldn’t let him go. She _refused._ She would never let go of him again.

Charley squeezed her eyes shut, digging in deep to that part of her that was part of him. She clung onto him like it was the only thing that mattered, like the storm outside was flooding her room and he was the only thing keeping her afloat. She was only vaguely aware of her nails biting into her palms until—

The rain stopped.

All her breath was forced out of her in a huff as if she’d fallen from a great height. Charley opened her eyes…

And she knew this place. The memory of it twisted her insides with fear and dread. She looked down at her hands, and she relaxed a bit as she realised she could see perfectly well.

But the world around her was an infinite white. She tapped the ground just to make sure and was relieved not to hear the hollow, tinny sound of glass.

“Charley?”

She looked up.

The world stopped.

Because this time, the voice wasn't in her head. This time, he was there. A fleeting thought observed that he looked different, older, harder, but she hardly had time to take him in before her feet launched her from the floor and carried her forwards, faster than she'd ever run, into the arms of her Doctor. She collided into him with a force that made him stagger and uttered some kind of strangled squeaking noise as she tried to laugh and cry and say his name all at the same time.

She didn’t care where they were. She didn’t care why or how or what had brought her here. She didn’t even care if this was another dream.

It was _him._ Her body heaved with sobs as she cried “Doctor” over and over, locking her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest so she could smell him, feel the soft texture of his waistcoat under her cheek, hear the thrumming of his double heartbeats. Her mind instantly registered the differences—a new, rougher waistcoat, a stiffer overcoat, shorter hair, a slight smoky smell added to his usual scent of tea and time—but none of it mattered at that moment. He was really, actually, _there._

Not a second passed before the Doctor’s arms were around her too, his voice broken with guilt and pain and sorrow. He said her name like it was a prayer, repeating it until he was hoarse and shuddering sobs rippled through his body. Finally, he was left whispering, “I'm sorry, Charley, I'm sorry,” like he held the guilt of the universe in his hands and was begging for forgiveness.

Charley didn't know what he was sorry about, but the words "I love you" came from her lips without hardly a thought, combating every “sorry” he uttered until he had no more left. Charley pulled away, blinking her tears away so she could see clearly into his eyes and say firmly, one final time, “I love you.”

The Doctor swallowed, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’d done.”

“You’re wrong, Doctor.” She chuckled a little, though it got caught in her throat. “I’ve been waiting a long time to say that.”

His eyes brightened and an airy laugh passed through his lips. Now, Charley was able to fully take in his differences for the first time. He was… _old,_ she decided. But it wasn’t just the lines on his face and his worn clothes; it was the firm set of his lips, the stoniness in his eyes. The happy, carefree Doctor she’d known had occasionally looked like the Doctor she saw before her right now, but it seemed that the cheerfulness had faded away into something grimmer. It was almost like he’d turned inside-out.

Hesitantly, Charley raised a hand to his face. She half-expected him to stop her, but he didn’t even flinch as she touched his cheek and delicately traced his shallow wrinkles. The Doctor’s eyelids closed and he breathed out a long sigh. Emboldened, Charley gently explored the weathered face she’d known so well, from the stubble on his chin to the dark, cropped hair on his head.

It occurred to her that she’d never dreamed up the Doctor like this. She’d always imagined him exactly as she’d known him. The fact that he was so different gave her hope that maybe, just maybe…

“Doctor?” she asked. She settled her hand on his cheek, gently stroking his skin with her thumb.

“Hmm?” he hummed, raising his eyebrows.

Charley was momentarily distracted at how much younger he looked and sounded for a moment. “How are you here?”

His eyes opened and he chuckled. “How am _I_ here? This my mind, Charley, I should be asking how _you’re_ here.”

Charley stared at him in shock. “Your _mind?”_ She looked around at the startling whiteness again. “But how did I get here?”

“Well I’m not sure myself, but I suspect that instead of letting go of my telepathic connection, you clung onto it; more than that, you went _inside_ of it and followed it all the way back to me. Under normal circumstances it shouldn’t be possible, but you, Charley…” He covered her hand with his, wrapping his fingers around hers. “You’re a part of me.”

Charley’s eyes stung with tears again at the warmth in his eyes. He wasn’t gone. It was obvious he’d changed, but it was still him. It was still her Doctor.

“I have so many questions,” she said. “How much time do we have?”

“Impossible to say.” Every trace of lightheartedness drained from his face in an instant. “I’m about to die, Charley.”

“What?” The comfort she’d felt inside immediately gave way to panic. She grabbed onto his arms. “But I just got you back, you can’t…” The resignation in his eyes scared her so much that she trailed off into silence. There was no fight left in him.

“The change has already started. In reality, I have seconds…” His face contorted in pain and he gasped, clutching at his stomach. “…only seconds left.”

Charley reached out for him, not wanting to let go for fear he’d disappear. He looked up desperately into her eyes. “You have to leave me, Charley. The change will come here last of all, and when it does, it will take over everything that remains here—even you.”

“No.” The word came out of her mouth as an immediate reaction. If he really was already dying, this was all she could do. “I’m staying here with you for as long as I can.”

He opened his mouth but Charley cut him off. “It’s not an argument, Doctor. I’m staying.”

A small smile touched his lips. “Of course you are. Stubborn as ever, eh, Charley?” But even amid the humour, Charley could read the pain on his face as clear as day.

“Here,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “Let’s sit you down.” The space they were in seemed to go on forever, but when Charley helped the Doctor down to the floor, an invisible wall manifested itself at their backs.

The Doctor’s forehead crinkled and the muscles in his jaw grew taut. Charley loosened the scarf around his neck, the material so much rougher than the silk cravat that used to hug his throat.

The Doctor’s breathing seemed to even out a little. “Thank you,” he said, his eyes weary and heavy with burden. “It isn’t going to get any easier from here, I’m afraid; only more painful.”

Charley counted seeing the Doctor in pain as one of the worst possible things she could ever experience, but she told herself she could stomach it for his sake. “Then take my hand.” She slid her hand into his, and despite how different he seemed in some ways, that sensation of cool touch hadn’t changed a bit. “Squeeze it when the pain is too much.”

He smiled at her again, then leaned back and stared upwards in silence. Charley watched him carefully, still finding it hard to reconcile this stoic figure with her cheery Doctor. She wanted to ask what had happened and why he was dying, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answers.

“You were surprised at me still being alive,” the Doctor said after a little while. He grunted and briefly closed his eyes as he shifted to turn slightly towards her. “You know, I wondered, if I ever saw you again, if you’d even be happy to see me.”

Charley couldn’t even begin to comprehend his words. “Of course I am! It doesn’t matter how much time has passed; you’re my best friend.” In his eyes, she saw the same confusion she’d heard in his voice earlier when he’d spoken into her mind. She paused, hardly wanting to say anything about the Doctor’s death. What if this was some kind of alternate timeline where it had never happened? Would saying it make it real?

“Don’t you remember?” she asked softly. “The Cybermen? The ship? Byron?”

The Doctor’s frown deepened. “Charley, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Charley didn’t doubt his sincerity, and he wasn’t in the habit of lying to her, anyway. What was going on?

“You left, Charley.” Those three words were emotionless, practised, as if he’d rehearsed them a million times. For the first time, Charley wondered how much time had passed since he’d last seen her. It could have been a hundred years, or a thousand. “And I hated you for it for a long time, but now, I can’t say that I blame you.”

All Charley could manage was a barely whispered, “What?”

The Doctor went on like he hadn’t heard her, more emotion saturating his tone with every word. “I didn’t know how to…how to _cope_ with losing C’rizz, then with handling your grief, and then you talked about leaving and I…” His fingers squeezed hers in a death grip, but Charley didn’t think he was even aware of it as he stared hard at the ground.

“I _thought_ about leaving,” Charley corrected. “And I understand why you couldn’t help me when I needed you then.” She placed her other hand over his. “I’ve had years to think about this, Doctor, and now I know that you weren’t trying to be uncaring. We were grieving in different ways and couldn’t understand how the other was dealing with…” Even after all this time, she could hardly bring herself to talk about C’rizz’s death.

The Doctor nodded slowly. “I let things go because I have to.” His piercing blue eyes looked deep into hers, offering an apology so poignant that it was almost more powerful than if he’d said it out loud. “But each time when I change,” he continued, softer, “I look back, just once. Your strength—and the strength of everyone who’s travelled with me—is what gets me through to the next body. That’s why I needed your help earlier.”

Charley considered his words for a moment. “You mentioned C’rizz…”

The Doctor smiled. “Yes, he was very confused and I couldn’t really explain. He was still travelling with us at the time I connected with him telepathically, and to tell him that I was dying would have been a bit awkward.” The smile faded as he stared at her with an unwavering gaze. Puzzled crinkles creased his forehead. “But why do we remember things so differently?”

“I’d like to know that, too.” She lifted his free hand and placed it against her cheek. “Here. You can see for yourself what I remember.”

The Doctor gently brushed her hair back from her face. “Our minds are already connected right now, remember? Just think. I’ll see it.”

Charley closed her eyes and went back through her memories, recalling that particular adventure as best she could, though it was a bit hazy because, as a rule, she tried very hard not to think about it. She felt the Doctor’s hand stiffen in her grasp until he suddenly pulled away and Charley opened her eyes, realising her breathing had sped up as she’d been reliving everything, seeing the Doctor lifeless on the ground…

The Doctor’s eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open. “No,” he whispered. “No, no, no, no!” He suddenly shot to his feet, tugging on his hair. “No, it can’t…” His voice cracked with emotion. “All this time I thought you left me, but really…” He paused and turned to look at her with torture in his eyes. “I left you?”

Suddenly, bright red tinged the edges of the infinite white room. Charley stood and went after the Doctor, grabbing his arm. “Doctor, it’s all right. I don’t know what happened to your memory, but obviously you didn’t know any better—”

“Every time,” he whispered, his voice trembling with rage. “Every time I try to do some good in the universe, every time I try to reach out to someone, I ruin everything. I did all I could to stop the war, I even worked against my own people to try to prevent it, but still everything went wrong and the war is raging on anyway.”

Charley squeezed his arm. “Doctor…”

“No!” He spun on her with a shout. “Don’t you see, Charley? This is why I have to change. I can’t fix things anymore. There’s nothing left for me to do but fight!”

Charley held onto him tighter as the red surrounding them deepened in hue. “Doctor!”

“No,” he growled. “Not Doctor. Not anymore. A warrior.”

The walls shone blood red, casting the Doctor in a harsh light. The ground began to tremble. Charley instantly remembered that they were inside his head. He’d said the change would come, that it would get more painful for him—

“Agh!” The Doctor doubled over, clutching at his chest. He suddenly looked up at Charley in panic. “Charley,” he said hoarsely. “You have to go now.”

The sight of him so broken tugged at her heart. She didn’t want to leave him, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. “Not until you listen to me.”

“There’s no time,” he moaned, “there’s never enough time…”

“Yes, there is. There’s right now.” She lost her footing to the shaking foundations of the Doctor’s mind and the Doctor straightened up in time to grab her shoulders and keep her from falling. Charley looked up into his eyes, ignoring the disaster around them. “I don’t really know what’s happening, and I don’t know about this war, but I know who you are. No matter what you think of yourself, you’re a doctor. It’s more than what you do; it’s who you are.”

The Doctor nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Charley.” He pulled her into his arms one last time, squeezing her tightly. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Charley pulled away from him with tears blurring her vision. “I already have.”

The Doctor’s eyes softened so much that he looked the very picture of his old self again. He gently took her face in his hands and placed a firm, lingering kiss to her forehead. “Never change, Charlotte Pollard.”

Charley hiccuped as her tears brimmed over. “Tell me I’ll see you again.”

He took her hand and squeezed it, looking deeply into her eyes like he was trying to convey a thousand feelings at once. “I dearly hope so.” He looked up, as if just realising what was happening to his mind, then met her gaze again with an eerie calm. “Goodbye, Charley.”

Sobs choked her words, but she forced them out anyway. “Goodbye, Doctor.” There was so much more she wanted to say, but as his hand slid from hers, she knew it was his time.

“Please,” she whispered as he began to fade away. “Don’t forget who you are.” She shut her eyes to try and combat the tears. When she opened them, thunder shook her bedroom and rain pattered against her window. Charley cried again, wondering if the whole thing had really been another dream.

She used the sleeve of her t-shirt to dry her eyes, but stopped short in the process.

The fabric carried a lingering scent of tea and time.


End file.
